


Bark at the Moon

by AmberLehcar



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animal Abuse, Gen, dog show au, reverb 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberLehcar/pseuds/AmberLehcar
Summary: Dog shows never interested Soul. Just another way for his family to show off their wealth. But when he has to take his brother's place alongside top dog-handler Maka Albarn, who insists on kidnapping a supposedly abused dog, things get a lot more interesting. Dog show AU.





	Bark at the Moon

**My contribution for Reverb 2017! I was lucky enough to get to work with the ever talented Sahdah, Professor-Maka, and Mr ProMa for this super cute dog show AU. You can find Sahdah art[here](https://sahdah.tumblr.com/post/163269006359/bark-at-the-moon-our-reverb-2017-submission-many), ProMa’s playlist [here](https://playmoss.com/en/professor-maka/playlist/bark-at-the-moon-3), and Mr ProMa’s song here.**

* * *

 

“Listen, get on board, we’re kidnapping this dog.”

 

For a moment, Soul stares blankly at her, leash to his own dog held lightly in his hand. He couldn’t have heard her correctly. There is no way on God’s green earth that he, an upstanding member of the Evans family, in the middle of the Death City Dog Show, is getting on board with any plan that involves stealing another contestant’s dog.

 

But the trembling chihuahua in Maka’s arms that most definitely does not belong to her and is not Oni, the chihuahua she is _supposed_ to be concerned with, leads him to believe that, yes, he did hear her correctly. “You’re kidding, right?”

 

“We don’t have time to discuss this, you’re an accomplice now,” she says, taking his free hand and power walking towards their hotel. Maka has that intense look in her eyes, somewhere between happiness and about to kill a man, leaving Soul frazzled as he does his best to encourage the other unwilling link in Maka’s chain to catch up with them. Oni doesn’t growl quite as lowly as he had when they had originally arrived at the Dog Show, but his eyes do not leave Soul as he tries to keep up with Maka’s pace. Probably blaming him for being dragged into whatever his stubborn handler has planned.

 

Soul wasn’t even supposed to be at this stupid event.

 

It had been Wes who had joined Maka at the previous dog shows, Wes who knew how to schmooze the judges and avoid drama with the other contestants, Wes who generally knew how to function as a proper member of society. But when Wes conveniently realized he had a last minute concert to perform, it was left to Soul to stand in his place. He’d known how incredibly motivated Maka is, how full of life and various plans she is. But he did not sign up for dognapping.

 

Maka’s heels click aggressively against the stone hotel floor as they cross the lobby to the elevator, and the moment they are all safely inside, she punches their floor button and the “close door” button repeatedly. The two chihuahuas lock eyes briefly, and Oni growls menacingly at the dog in Maka’s arms. She shoots the tiny, angry dog a glare, and he quiets begrudgingly.

 

Soul swears she’s an ethereal being with an anti-demon aura about her. Or a dog whisperer. Either way, he’s not going to openly admit that, to her or to anyone. “Mind telling me why we’re on the run from the authorities now?”

 

“I know what abuse looks like. Poor Crona does not deserve the treatment that Gorgon woman puts him through.” She cuddles the dog, Crona apparently, in her arms closer to her as he pants heavily and glances back and forth between her and Soul, whale-eyed.

 

“And _you_ have to do this? You can’t just let the judges see it for themselves and do or say something about it? Aren’t these guys trained to spot that sort of stuff?”

 

“You honestly think these judges are that impartial?” she replies, raising an eyebrow at him. “Besides, it’s easy to fool some of them. All the obvious signs can be written off as anxiety left over from traveling. It’s more in how _she_ interacts with _Crona_ , not how he interacts with others. It’s like she doesn’t know how dogs even work!”

 

The elevator door opens, and Maka practically sprints out and down the hall, Soul doing his best to keep up. How she can move that quickly in heels and a pencil skirt is beyond him. “What do you mean?” he calls after her. Before she can answer him, they notice two men who appear to be event staff headed their way from the other end of the hall.

 

This is it; they’re done for, their mission over before it ever really began. He tightens his grip on Oni’s leash, practically dragging the half tremble, half anger pup closer to his side.

 

Maka doesn’t seem fazed as she keeps making her way to her hotel room with the same quick strides. Soul wonders for a moment if she will bulldoze through them when the men inevitably try to apprehend her, but they don’t give Maka a second look. Instead, they proceed past them to the elevators and presumably to the show below, lost in their own conversation. He had almost forgotten how good it feels to breathe.

 

Shifting Crona in her arms, Maka reaches her door and fishes in her pocket for her room key. “I’ll explain what I mean once I get this damn door open!” she hisses.

 

He had been certain his heartrate would go back to normal once the staff members were gone. But his heart still hammers against his rib cage, and he isn’t sure if it’s because he is still an unwilling participant in this dognapping business or he is going to go into a hotel room alone with this firecracker of a girl he may have been thinking about a little too fondly between their last few meetings and today.

 

Crona whines pitifully from Maka’s arms as she is finally able to open the door, and he remembers that nope, he will not be alone with firecracker handler extraordinaire. Stereotypical hotel shenanigans won’t happen at all (or will have to wait, his brain suggests) while they are in the process of dognapping. He watches Maka squat down to the floor as best she can in the skirt and slowly loosen her grip on the terrified chihuahua. Crona instantly leaps from her arms to hide under the bedskirt towards the head of the bed.

 

Maka gets on her knees and lifts the bedskirt closer to the foot of the bed, revealing that Crona can’t hide very far as the bed rests on a giant box, no underbed space to be found. “As I was saying,” she says, carefully laying the bedskirt back as it was and giving the dog a moment to rest, “Madi Gorgon doesn’t understand how dogs work. There’s just no way. When a dog is scared, you’re supposed to make yourself appear as small as possible. Turn to the side, reach out your hand far away from you to let them approach you first. She just… took up so much space, insisted on invading poor Crona’s space even though he’s terrified of her.”

 

Soul unhooks the lead from Oni’s collar, who then gives him a pointed look and finds a comfortable spot next to the TV stand to curl up in. Like Soul, he’s had enough of this excitement for one day. Unlike Soul, he does not deserve a nap. As he winds the lead up around his hand, Soul exhales sharply through his nose. “And you want me to believe you held out your hand and that dog lept into your arms to safety?”

 

She glares at him from the floor. “I did what I had to do. You don’t understand, I saw her slam her hand on the kennel he was in because he supposedly wasn’t behaving. And looking closer at him, he looks like he might be a little underweight. Not much, but still. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”

 

Soul opens his mouth to protest further, but stops short at a sharp rapping at the hotel room door. For a moment, there is silence, and the two humans share a terrified look. The knocking starts again, and Soul’s heart drops.

 

“This is the police, come out with your hands up!” a man shouts from the other side of the door.

 

Maka glances briefly to the window as she rises from her spot on the floor. He’s concerned she may consider jumping even if they are way too high up for that (because she’s been this hard-headed so far, it’s completely possible she’d at least try), so he gives her a stern “Stay!” and heads for the door.

 

“Not the dog here…” she mutters loud enough for him to hear.

 

He did not sign up for this. Not her sass, not the event, not being taken away by the police. Hand trembling slightly, Soul opens the door to face his fate.

 

His fate has blue hair and is certainly not dressed as a police officer. Dressed in what appears to be a hastily thrown on suit complete with unknotted tie, the man in the hallway holds his sides, face screwed up as he tries to hold back his laughter. But apparently his prank is too damn funny, and he bursts out laughing, a bit of spittle landing on a very unamused Soul’s face. “Shoulda seen the look on your face, dude!” the man cackles. “That’s some funny shit!”

 

Maka arrives at the door, gently nudging Soul aside. “You scared us to death! Where’s Aldan?”

 

“Back at the show, where you guys should be. He’s here in spirit for you, but he’s gotta get Cerberus absolutely perfect. Show must go on, you know?” The man rises up on his tiptoes to get a peek inside the hotel room. Oni’s head perks up for a moment from the TV stand, but he soon huffs and settles back down for his nap. “That the dog?” the man asks.

 

“My dog,” Soul answers before Maka can. “Who are you supposed to be?”

 

The man grins from ear to ear and crosses his arms over his chest. “Blake Barrett. Childhood friend and dog training god. More importantly, here to assist in the rescue. Got a plan together yet?”

 

Maka’s confidence finally wavers as she sort of folds in on herself at the question. “This was… as far as I got.”

 

Blake tuts and pushes his way into the room, Soul letting the door close behind him once he’s inside. “You’re supposed to be the brains of this outfit, Maks. How’d you even get this far?” the new accomplice says as he lands hard on the bed. Crona pokes his head out from under the bedskirt at this, and Blake notices him. “There he is, the guest of honor!” he exclaims before reaching down to pet the chihuahua. But Crona buries himself back under the bedskirt as best he can. “Yeesh, better get the poor thing wherever we need to ASAP. He’s freaking out.”

 

Soul swipes a hand across his face, still unsure why he hasn’t just taken his own dog and walked out of this whole mess. “Well, normally, what do _sane_ people do when they suspect animal abuse?”

 

“Call Animal Control?” Maka offers. “Sometimes there’s a direct hotline, kinda like 911.”

 

Blake cackles again. “Yeah, sure, call Animal Control to show up at a dog show, I bet that goes over well.”

 

She’s back to pouting, and Soul wants to laugh at how childish she looks. But given their situation, he keeps his snickers to himself and rolls up the sleeves to his dress shirt before adding, “I mean, worst case scenario, we can try to get him to the Humane Society? You can usually write up a report there, too.”

 

“So then it’s settled. Jailbreak basically,” Blake says, laying back on the bed and folding his arms behind his head. “Any ideas on how to sneak him out?”

 

“Only just figured out we need to sneak him out, so…” Maka taps her foot where she stands, arms crossed and face stern. She crinkles the corner of the numbered paper attached to her left sleeve before continuing, “I can’t go back down there, someone might have recognized me walking out with Crona or even taking him from his kennel. I think you’ll have to show Oni by yourse-”

 

“Woah, wait, you want me showing this dog?” Soul sputters. “You’ve met my dog, right? He doesn’t listen to me at all, that’s why Wes goes to these things!”

 

“Dogs pick up on how you’re feeling, if you just stay calm and professional, he’ll follow suit!”

 

“I can’t show him, I have no idea what I’m doing!”

 

“You’ll have to if he’s going to compete at all!”

 

“And in all this time we’re up here arguing, your lady’s probably gotten a search crew assembled,” Blake adds from the bed. “So you might wanna chop-chop.”

 

Soul shoots Blake an irritated look before focusing back on Maka. Carefully, she removes her number from her arm and offers it to him.

 

“It’s gotta be you,” she insists. “All you have to do is follow what the judge asks for. Walk where they say to. He’ll take care of the rest. I think he might surprise you.”

 

...

 

The familiar feeling of eyes boring into him makes him swallow hard. Part of him knows everyone is too busy with their own business, but the the other part of him is screaming, “I’m guilty, I’m an accomplice!”, and is certain everyone can hear it.

 

Blake seems cool and collected in front of him, quite different from his boisterous introduction now as he scans the large grooming area for Aldan and Cerberus. Soul wants to ask him so much. Like, is Maka known for dognapping and vigilante justice? And how can he learn to stay so cool in the face of danger? And is that a wedding ring on his finger? Who would marry _him_? But Blake veers to the right suddenly to embrace a dark-haired man in an impossibly symmetrical suit standing next to the most beautiful blue heeler he has ever seen.

 

Blake whispers something to whom Soul assumes is Aldan, and the man looks mortified in response. They argue in hushed voices, probably about the dognapping, but Soul has to keep moving to avoid further suspicion.

 

Back at their assigned grooming table, Soul tries to locate Maka’s description of Madi Gorgon. Blonde side braid, black suit pants, snake face, not around currently. He breathes a sigh of relief. There isn’t much more time before the chihuahuas will be called for judging, so the calm before the storm is much appreciated.

 

A little ways away, a kennel bangs loudly atop another table. Soul’s curiosity gets the better of him, and he stares at the silver-haired woman grumbling to herself next to said table. One small kennel rests on its surface, one small kennel stands below. Strange to have two kennels to a table, he thinks.

 

And then, she arrives, just as Maka had described. Madi Gorgon saunters up to the woman at the grooming table, chatting with her as she wears a smile that makes his stomach drop. The silver-haired woman looks like she’ll be sick herself, obviously trying her best not to let a grimace cross her face.

 

Suddenly, Madi’s eyes meet his. She straightens up a moment as her sickly-looking friend continues talking, then, without warning, starts making her way towards him. In her arms lies a sleepy chihuahua who looks eerily similar to Crona, the dog who should be getting far away from the show. Fear grips Soul’s heart, and all he can picture is Maka dragged away in handcuffs, kicking and screaming.

 

“Can I help you?” Madi asks in a sickly-sweet voice once she closes in on him. “Crona” shakes his sleepiness away and instantly bristles at him, but his handler doesn’t seem to notice.

 

“No, uh, just thinking. You were in my line of sight is all.” Soul glances down at Oni who remains suspiciously quiet given “Crona’s” behavior. Oni simply sniffs Madi’s ankles, and Soul does not trust him in the least.

 

“Looking for your handler?” she continues coolly. “You walked in with a woman earlier.”

 

“She’s my, uh, g-” He stops mid-sentence, not sure he can convincingly state the two are lovers. “G-good friend. From college.” Nailed it.

 

Madi’s eyes crinkle with amusement. “Hopefully she shows up soon. Would be a shame if she missed the show for some reason.”

 

She knows. She has to know Maka is not a friend or a lover, but a dognapper, caught and probably in the back of a cop car, and Soul can’t breathe. That is, until he catches a whiff of the joyous smell of dog urine. Oni trots away from Madi’s damp shoe, looking very pleased with himself.

 

She jumps backwards, shaking off the remaining liquid that hadn’t trickled off her shoe, and hisses at Oni. “Horrid beast! You’ll both be sorry!” Without another word, she stomps off toward her own grooming table not too far away, shaking her foot every so often like a cat in mittens.

 

For the first time ever, Soul scoops Oni up in his arms and actually feels a connection with the stubborn family dog. Who would have thought close encounters of the snake woman kind would bring them (any of this dognapping group honestly) together? The moment is over too soon, however, when Soul’s phone goes off, and he nearly drops Oni. Not wanting to piss off the pooch and incur his pee-filled wrath, he places Oni on the grooming table before fishing his phone out of his pocket.

 

“Soul?” Maka asks before he can greet her. “How are things? Did you find her?”

 

“Uh, yeah, Crona’s apparently here with Madi. Where are you?”

 

“In the car with Crona like we planned! She has another dog?!”

 

Soul stands on tip-toe a moment to get a good view of Madi in the crowd of people. “Yeah, seems like a clone. Bit more spunk than our Crona.”

 

“She is in so much trouble!” Maka sounds giddy as a schoolgirl. “Sure, you can swap out handlers, but not _dogs_! You have to rat her out!”

 

“What?! No, I barely agreed to even showing Oni, now you want me to play secret agent? Besides, how do I even rat her out? ‘Hey, I know that’s not your dog, ‘cause I stole your dog’?”

 

“Look, she’s an awful human who hurts dogs and cheats to win. You want her to get away with this?”

 

“I want to get through this day without more dog piss or handcuffs, okay? Aside from covering your ass, I can’t do more!”

 

Maka is silent for a moment before replying, “Fine, I’ll ask Blake.” The line goes dead before any more can be said.

 

Soul pockets his phone once more and swipes a hand through his hair. Oni glares up at him from the table. Their moment is definitely over. “What? I’m not even supposed to be here! Wes would be the better spy, not me!”

 

The chihuahua huffs and turns around, sitting abruptly to punctuate his frustration with his new handler.

 

“Don’t give me sass!” Soul snaps before realizing he must look like a lunatic. Taking a deep breath, he rubs the back of his neck and glances over the room of dogs and handlers.

 

The air is thick with nervousness radiating off the handlers, but they don’t let it show in how they hold themselves or how they interact with their dogs. Soft encouraging voices, little kissy sounds, a few belly-rubs, so many tails wagging. Each dog is there to try to take home the prize, but when they go home, they are more than just for show. They are a family member, so very loved.

 

His eyes land back on Madi as she makes her way to the show floor, a cocky smile on her face and eyes looking far ahead, never once landing on “Crona.” Neither of her dogs could possibly be going home to the same love the other dogs are.

 

And Maka is encouraging him to help her ensure they never go home with her again.

 

Oni glances over his shoulder at Soul, still not turning towards him. The few other chihuahuas are on the move, so if they are competing they had better get the show on the road.

 

Soul groans. “Alright, let’s do this,” he gives in, holding out his arms to the dog who leaps toward him. He swears Oni’s face shows a hint of a smirk, but maybe it’s just nerves getting to him. No matter, they have to catch up with the others.

 

The chihuahuas gather in an area behind a large curtain, beyond which lies the show floor, an expectant audience, and the careful eyes of the judge. A tall, blonde woman sporting an eyepatch fusses with the handlers, ensuring everyone is in their proper places. “Good luck out there!” she sing-songs to Soul as they take their place at the end of the line.

 

He nods his thanks. He’ll need all the luck he can get.

 

The curtain draws back enough to allow the line to start moving. One by one, the handlers walk further out onto the show floor at a leisurely pace, their companions’ feet moving like a blur to keep up. Soul watches as each duo takes their place beside individual stands that will later state what breed the respective dog is once they move on from breeds to groups. Madi and “Crona” take their place only a few stands to the right of Soul and Oni’s.

 

Oni doesn’t pull on the leash like he does at home for him. In fact, this is the easiest and springy-est he has ever walked his family dog before. Maka’s “I think he might surprise you” nags at the back of Soul’s head, but he tries his best to ignore it and stand confidently at their place on the floor.

 

Judge Frank N. Stein calls each tiny dog up to a podium opposite the curtain entrance, carefully examining each specimen. The man seems almost bored as he checks the teeth and ears of a competing dog, like he’d rather be anywhere else than surrounded by all these people and animals, and Soul can empathize.

 

Madi and “Crona” make their way to the podium next, and Soul’s phone vibrates in his pants pocket. It takes everything in his power to not rip his phone out and make sure Maka is still okay. Instead, he keeps a laser-focus on Madi as she picks up her back-up dog and places him on the table for inspection.

 

Her air of confidence pisses him off, honestly, a smug look on her face as she steadies “Crona” and lifts his tail. Soul swears he sees her wink at Stein, who is clearly unamused at her behavior as he continues patting the dog down. Her expression falters for just a moment before going back to smug, doing her best to not let the audience know she feels snubbed.

 

The moment Stein gets close to the chihuahua’s head, “Crona” begins to act differently. He continues his inspection regardless and moves to check his teeth. Apparently this is the last straw however, as “Crona” snaps at him, catching the side of Stein’s hand enough for little droplets of blood to form.

 

Madi scoops up the dog in her arms, a horrified look on her face as she tries to form an apology. Glowering over the rim of his glasses, Stein dismisses her by pointing to the curtain where the contestants had entered. No words need to be said. An aggressive dog is not a show dog, and Madi knows this. Taking what little pride she has left, the woman turns on her heels and exits the show floor.

 

The moment she’s gone, the audience buzzes with excitement. The woman who had assisted the contestants earlier comes running out with a large bandage to tend to Stein’s hand, and Soul is tempted to book it to go turn in Madi like Maka had asked. With the judge injured, would they even really continue? Maybe postpone the chihuahuas for now? The blonde woman lightly touches Stein’s shoulder, and he murmurs something to her before she nods and leaves the floor. He seems ready to continue.

 

Soul’s decision to bolt boils down to who he wants to get an earful from, really. He can leave to chase Madi down, ruin Oni’s chances at winning anything, and practically get disowned. Or, he can stay, let her get away before he can confront her or the authorities, and never hear the end of it from Maka. Or his conscience. Ultimately the idea of poor Crona being in anyone’s arms but Maka’s kills him a little inside, and suddenly he’s bursting through the curtains and racing back to the grooming area, a confused Oni in tow.

 

There, “Crona” is already stuffed in one of the kennels, barking and growling at Madi as she balls her fists on the table. She’s shaking, seething in anger. As Soul stops behind her, she glances over her shoulder. “I’ll ask this one last time. Can I help you?” she hisses.

 

Soul gulps. Calm, cool, collected. Clearing his throat first, he answers, “Just sorry to see you get disqualified. So weird how your dog just freaked out like that. Seemed really nice when I saw him earlier. It’s like he was a completely different dog.”

 

Madi’s eyes widen ever so slightly as she turns to face him. She knows he knows. “Well, stress can affect anyone really.”

 

Her guard is breaking, intimidating look wavering, and he’s got the upper hand. “You ever figure out what that extra kennel on the floor there is for?”

 

“It’s mine,” she growls.

 

“Ah, for your second dog, right?” Wes would be so proud.

 

Madi grabs him by his shirt, face inches from his own. “What did you do with my dog?! With my Crona?!” she demands. All eyes are on them now, between the imposter dog barking, Oni now barking, and Ms. Gorgon losing her cool. If this keeps up, he won’t have to rat her out, she’ll do it herself.

 

A staff member approaches them, gently placing his hand on Madi’s arm. “What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

 

“This man and his girlfriend stole my dog!” she shouts for all to hear, not letting go of her death grip on Soul’s shirt.

 

The man glances at the angry kennel on the table. “Do you mean that dog there?”

 

Madi finally lets go of Soul, shoving him away from her to turn her attention towards the other man. “No, you idiot, my _other_ dog! My Crona!”

 

“Ma’am, did you… bring a littermate to substitute your dog?”

 

Her eyes flit back and forth between the man, Soul, and the kennel as she grasps for words. The silver-haired woman from earlier returns, but upon seeing the showdown tries to skirt around the scene before Madi locks eyes with her and she’s trapped too. Luckily the awkward standoff is interrupted by Madi’s phone buzzing angrily from her purse on the other woman’s shoulder.

 

Taking a deep breath, she composes herself and silently stretches an arm out to her assistant, who then grabs the buzzing phone and places it gently in her hand. Madi offers her a dubious smile as a thank you and answers the phone. “Hello? Yes, this is she. Yes? The Humane Society?! Why the hell-? I’m on my way, do NOT let her leave!” Hanging up the phone, she rips her purse from her assistant's shoulder. “I have to go claim my dog it seems. Eruka, stay here with Ragnarok!” Eruka and the man are left speechless as she shoves past them, on a mission to save her prized pup.

 

Soul picks up Oni and is in hot pursuit. He’s not sure if he can get to the Humane Society before her, but he sure as hell is going to try.

 

…

 

Damn busy weekend traffic. Soul bursts through the doors of the Humane Society to find Madi had in fact beat him there. She stands opposite a sitting Maka, both locked in an icy glare. No Crona, no staff, just two blondes and a whole lof of hostility.

 

Madi breaks eye contact to look at him still standing in the open doorway. “Ah, good, the guilty party is all here.”

 

Soul doesn’t say a word in response as he carefully moves towards Maka’s chair.

 

“We’ll see who the ‘guilty party’ is,” Maka grumbles, switching her attention to  the door at the of the reception area just as the receptionist walks out with Crona on a temporary leash.

 

“Ms. Gorgon, I presume?” she asks, keeping Crona as close as he will allow her as he trembles a safe distance behind her legs.

 

“Yes, and that is definitely my little Crona, so if you don’t mind, we’ll be on our way. I trust you’ve contacted the police about these two stealing my dog?”

 

“I found him unattended in the middle of a dog show,” Maka states. It isn’t a total lie, he had been left unattended, just… in his own kennel as opposed to wandering the show floor as Maka would have the two women believe. “And you are not walking out of here with him.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

The receptionist steps in, “Crona’s behavior and weight indicate mistreatment and malnourishment. Walking him around, I noticed his gait was a bit off, as if his legs are in pain. He could have been injured while he was left unattended,but... We’ve done an x-ray to determine the exact cause, just waiting on the results.”

 

“So you’re trying to say I abuse my dog?”

 

“I’d say it’s obvious that there are signs of abuse, and we are trying to uncover the truth behind who may be to blame. If you would like your dog back in your custody, it may be best to cooperate with the authorities.” The receptionist motions toward on of the empty chairs opposite Soul and Maka, silently insisting she sit and wait patiently.

 

Madi remains standing, fists clenching and unclenching at her sides while she contemplates her next moves. Finally, she sinks back into a chair with a scowl on her face. “Fine. I’ll cooperate, just long enough to get my dog out of this shithole.”

  
A smile crosses Maka’s face, and when Soul looks down at her, he sees that same intense look in her eyes from earlier that day, somewhere between happiness and about to kill a man. “Don’t worry about Crona once you leave here,” she taunts the woman. “He’ll be in _good_ hands from now on.”


End file.
